


Managing the Unmanageable

by Chalatan



Category: Penn & Teller Get Killed (1989), Penn & Teller RPF
Genre: Banter, Fake Blood, Gen, Magic, silent!Teller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalatan/pseuds/Chalatan
Summary: Snippets from the life of Penn and Teller's unlucky manger: Vince, in no particular order.After Carlotta quit someone else has to take over the management of magician duo Penn and Teller. Poor Vince doesn't know what he's in for.Set in an AU where everyone in Penn and Teller Get Killed survives.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All Characters other than Penn, Teller, Carlotta and Georgie are original characters. They are not based on real people. Penn Teller, Georgie and Carlotta are based on their characters from Penn and Teller Get Killed and/or their stage personas.

_February 12 th 1990_

“Hi, I’m Vince”

“Carlotta,” she held out her hand distractedly. “I’ve tried to collect everything together as best I can for the handover but it’s gonna be a bit crazy no matter what I do. I hope you’re ready for a challenge.”

“Yeah I guess.”

“Have you met the boys yet?” He assumed she meant Penn and Teller.

“I’ve exchanged some emails with Teller and met Penn for, well I guess it was an interview,”

“Heh, worried?”

“A little, I’ve heard Teller is a bit of a perfectionist, might be hard to work for.”

“Teller is not the one you need to worry about, trust me you’ll be fine. He’s patient and he keeps his mouth shut, which is a blessing with performers let me tell you. Penn on the other hand never shuts up. You’re gonna find yourself, every now and then, say about every ten minutes or so, wanting to wrap your hands around his neck and just squeeze until the life leaves his eyes and his jaw goes blessedly slack.” Vince laughed nervously.

“Seriously if you find yourself having to be alone with one or the other, choose Teller. At least he won’t make you feel homicidal. Awkward yes, a bit grossed out, maybe, if he’s in one of his moods, and for god’s sake if he wants to show you something make sure you have someone else with you - Not Penn! But all in all he’s manageable. Though don’t get me wrong the two of them together are 10 times worse than they are when they’re apart.”

“Ok I’ll make sure not to share a motel room with either of em,” Vince joked. He was trying to figure out how serious she was.

“Oh you won’t have to worry about that. They always share with each other.”

“Perhaps that’s because you’re a woman?”

“No it’s because no one else can stand them for more than a few hours at a time. Even when I was sleeping with Penn, he shared a room with Teller. He’d come to my room and then he’d leave.”

“Ah.”

“Wadaya mean ‘ah’?”

“Well… is that why you’re leaving? Bad breakup?”

“Hah, there was nothing to breakup so let’s just leave it at ‘bad’. Now I put everything you need in this folder, dates, contacts, stuff like that.” She handed him a bulging cardboard folder in a sludgy green colour. There were little flecks of rusty red on it that Vince tried to ignore.

“So… Any last minute advice for Penn and Teller’s new manager?” Vince asked light-heartedly.

“Hmmm… Health insurance is essential, pay that before anything else. Never get involved in their pranks. If they’re going on a talk show don’t let them ‘wing it’. Don’t sleep with either of them… honestly there’s just not enough time, you’ll figure it out,” She finished with a shrug and opened the door meaningfully. 

“Ok thanks I guess. Wish me luck!” Vince laughed awkwardly as he took the hint and edged out the door.

“My number’s in the file. Only call me if you fear for your life,” She said, closing the door.

“…Good luck.”

_February 15 th 1990_

“Hey there Vince,” Penn shouted across the space backstage. In person he was incredibly tall. A mop of curly hair formed a strange sort of quiff that flopped over his forehead. Despite his success he was still pretty young and enthusiastic. Penn waved him over and reached out a hand. Vince shook it warmly.

“Hi Penn. I guess this is officially my first day on the job.”

“Yep, I’ll give you a bit of an orientation. I’ll introduce you to the guys, we now have enough guys that they need introducing. Mo, our covert props guy, Chris who sorts lighting and sound with his team, Nicki who works up front, Georgie our Glamorous Assistant. Oh and Teller of course.”

“Yeah I’m looking forward to meeting him. He was very chatty in his emails”

Penn Laughed. “Well you won’t be getting that in person.”

“What do you mean?” Vince asked. Penn gave him an odd look.

“Cus he doesn’t talk.” Vince stared at him. “You must have known he doesn’t talk!?” Penn added incredulously when he saw the look on Vince’s face.

“I thought it was just a bit… you know a gimmick for the show?” Vince explained starting to feel a little unsure.

“Nope, on stage and off.”

“Shit- oh excuse my language-“ Vince stuttered automatically before he was interrupted by a barked laugh from Penn.

“No excuse necessary. We like language here. Helps us motherfuckers to damn well communicate,” Penn interrupted.

“Oh cool... Is… is he ok?”

“Is who ok?” Penn asked looking confused.

“Teller,” Vince replied. Penn still looked blank. “…You know… medically?” He finished awkwardly.

“Teller!? No he’s crazy as a fox but what’s that got to do- Oh you mean the silent thing!” Penn laughed. Vince was quickly re-evaluating his assumptions for the day. This was fast becoming one of his more embarrassing first days on the job.

“No it’s just a thing he does. He can talk no problem. Can swear like a sailor too when we drop the tank on his foot,” Penn laughed. “He just usually doesn’t, and never around new people. In all the time we’ve worked together he’s spoken maybe 100 words, and most of those were when he thought he’d killed me!”

Vince considered this for a moment. “Is this some sort of prank?”

“Not mine!” Penn put his palms out. “If it is, it’s a very long one of Teller’s, but honestly I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s that sort of guy you know? Eccentric genius.”

“How do you work with that?”

“Well, we’re all mad here so that helps. You are too,” Penn added matter-of-factly.

“I am?” Vince asked weakly.

“Yep, that’s why I hired you. Saw the madness in your eyes.”

“ahhh….”

Penn guided him on a fast paced tour backstage. Vince had to hurry to keep up with Penn’s long strides. He tried his best to take note of all the new names and faces and pick out useful details from the constant stream of information coming from Penn, most of it seemingly completely arbitrary. What sort of car one person had, who could play the guitar, which of the crew members got most drunk at the after tour party.

“And now it’s just Teller. He’s through there doing god knows what. I’ll join you in a sec, just gotta use the little boy’s room.” And then like a large whirlwind Penn was gone.

With Carlotta’s warnings ringing in his ears Vince edged cautiously into the next room.

Teller stood over a trestle table with a large bowl of spaghetti. His eyes lit up when he saw Vince and he beckoned him over.

“Hi, I’m Vince we, er, talked over emails,” He said holding out his hand. Teller shook it happily and smiled. Vince heard the silence well up and felt the need to fill it. “So you, er, having lunch then? That’s a lot of pasta.”

Teller nodded enthusiastically and moved the spaghetti to the centre of the table. Vince noticed it was completely dry.

“Just plain spaghetti?” Teller slapped a hand to his forehead as though he’d forgotten something. Then he cast his eyes about the room. Vince looked around but apart from the table and a few chairs he couldn’t see anywhere for sauce to hide. Teller suddenly snapped his fingers and pulled out a pen knife. “What are you going to do with that?” Vince asked nervously. Teller moved like a snake and suddenly sliced himself up the arm and plunged his hand into the spaghetti. Redness welled up in the bowl and Vince felt faint.

“Help!” He shouted without thinking. Teller stood staring in horror at his own mess as the bowl became redder and redder.

Penn came into the room in a rush, took one look at the scene and burst out laughing.

Teller withdrew his arm from the pasta bowl and whipped it on a paper towel, revealing it to be unharmed. Penn walked up to the bowl and dipped his finger in, licking it off.

“Mmm tomato sauce.” Penn said with a smile. Slowly Vince’s heart rate went down.

“Yep you’ve met Teller alright,” Penn snorted. He turned to his partner with a wink. “Very nice first impression, he won’t forget that in a hurry.”

Vince wondered what the fuck he’d got himself into.

_July 24 th 1993_

They were cruising through the desert heat with the aircon on full blast. Vince was driving and Penn and Teller were chattering away in the back. Well Penn was chattering away. Teller was making animated gestures that occasionally caught his eye in the rear view mirror.

“Retractable or drawbridge style? Huh really? I always figured you for old school.”

“And a big spinney chair, like that one in the space base. Or was it Atlantis? Yeah you’re right Teller.”

“Ok but we are agreed on the table with straps and lasers right? Yeah it tilts, spins, the full business! And for added excitement the whole laser can rotate to fire at the moon.”

“Plus if it tilts we can slide the bodies right into the pool.”

“This again? Nah man, nah. You gotta have sharks. More teeth per animal, it just makes sense.”

“Hey, HEY Vince!?”

“I hear ya Penn. I’ve been hearing you for the past 3 hours,” Vince replied.

“Oh. We bothering you? Cus I can tell Teller to shut up?” Penn laughed. Teller wacked Penn on the arm with his notebook and Vince waved an arm lazily in dismissal.

“Never mind, what did you want?”

“Sharks or Piranhas?”

“In what context? This better not be a bit for the show.”

Penn laughed. “No don’t worry, although now you mention it…” He turned to Teller and pretended to consider it before bursting into giggles again. Teller just started scribbling in his notebook which was far more worrying.

“Imagine you were a Bond villain. We’re trying to make the ultimate lair. So in the pool; sharks or piranhas?” Vince opened his mouth to speak but before he could Penn launched in the pro’s and con’s.

“See Teller says Piranhas are more classy, more exotic.” As usual Vince’s mind was scrambled trying to figure out how exactly Teller had conveyed this. “But sharks are more effective! You could kill anything with a shark, no problem. Not to mention scary! Piranhas are only scary if you know what piranhas are.” Teller frowned at him. “Not everyone knows Teller! Sure you say ‘piranha’ and I get nervous but do you even know what one looks like?” Teller jabbed his pencil at his notepad. “Oh, like that huh?” Penn tilted his head to the side. “How big?” Teller held his hands apart in the clichéd fish measuring pose. “Ok well that is pretty creepy but only if it opens its mouth. And I think you’ve taken artistic liberties with the eyes.” Teller sniffed. “Everyone knows what a shark is, and even if you didn’t, they’re huge with multiple tows of razor sharp teeth!” Penn gnashed his own teeth in demonstration. Teller threw his arms wide to indicate a huge fish and then brought them together to make a tiny box. “Oh yeah, Teller thinks we couldn’t keep sharks in the lair because they wouldn’t have enough space to get exercise.” Teller did an impression of a flabby shark. “But we can always have a bigger tank in the back and just move them about! Or one of those water treadmills, I know you’ve always wanted one of those Teller.”

“So yeah sharks or piranhas?”

“Why not both? This is the ultimate lair after all,” Vince said diplomatically.

“See this is the problem with you Vince! How are we meant to debate villain lairs properly if you’re gonna be all reasonable! No one likes a centrist!”

“It’s spike trap vs quick sand all over again,” Penn continued. “Teller always wants to do it slowly,” Teller mimed slowly dipping James Bond into a pool of Piranhas and/or quick sand (it was a surprisingly effective mime) “But that’s where most villains go wrong! At least shoot Bond in the leg first and he’s not going anywhere. Plus you’ve got blood in the water,” Penn paused and licked his lips, he seemed to have finally run out of breath. Teller rolled his eyes and handed Penn a bottle. “Thanks Teller.”

Vince heard Penn take a huge gulp before he was suddenly spat at in the back of the head. Penn was spluttering bright red and trying to both wipe his tongue on his sleeve and hit Teller with the bottle.

“How many times guys! No blood in the car!” Vince shouted.

_September 5 th 1993_

“Penn… what are you doing with that nail gun?” Vince asked cautiously. Penn turned to him eagerly.

“It’s great isn’t it? One of the set guys was using it, a real nice piece of hardware, fucking terrifying too.”

“Yeah it is, especially when you’re holding it… Why are you holding it?”

“I thought we could use it in the show!” Penn must have seen his panicked look because he quickly continued. "Not a real working one of course, a trick one that makes the noise but doesn’t fire the nails.”

“Better… What’s the bit?”

“I’m not sure yet, got to talk it over with Teller.”

“I’m seeing gore all over my stage already.”

_September 8 th 1993_

“So let me get this straight. You’re going to do a memorization trick, you’re going to tell the audience that it’s just a trick, not memorization. But it does actually require you to memorize the whole sequence.”

“Yup!” Penn said happily. Teller nodded eagerly.

Vince shook his head. “I will never understand you guys.”

“What?! It’s genius!”

_October 23rd 2001_

(Mumbai, India)

“Canned pears again? What is that, like the fifth time this week?” Vince commented as he watched Penn eat his lunch.

“Sixth but who’s counting?” Penn replied cheerily pulling syrupy fruit out of the can with a fork.

“That can’t be good for you,” Vince muttered.

“What? It’s fruit, fruit is good!”

Vince shook his head exasperatedly. “Have you eaten anything that doesn’t come in a can for the last 3 weeks?”

“Sure, that jerky came in a sealed foil packet.”

“Not what I meant Penn.”

“Look maybe I’m preparing for the apocalypse here. This is the dress rehearsal.”

“‘Dress rehearsal huh? So you’re gonna wear your stage suit during the apocalypse?”

“Well… you know what yeah. Gotta go out looking good.”

Vince chuckled and took a seat at the rickety plastic table and tucked in to his curry. 

“Teller still eating fried street bugs?”

“Yeah well he’s going for a different sort of apocalypse preparation,” Penn muttered distastefully.

_March 12 th 2003_

(Mumbai, India)

“Teller joining you with the pears I see,”

“After last time, you bet. This special is too important for Delhi belly.” Penn gave him side eye and a smug grin. “Don’t suppose you want some…”

Vince held up a can of chili “Brought my own thanks.”

Penn laughed and clinked cans with him. “See now all you need is a good suit and you can join our bunker for nuclear fallout.”

“After living with you guys on the road for 6 months I think I’ll take my chances with the mutants on the surface,” He replied. Penn laughed.

“Smart man!”


	2. Creative Process

The boys were fighting again. Vince always thought of Penn and Teller as ‘the boys’ now, just like Carlotta used to, even though Teller was older than him. They weren’t fist fighting or anything. In fact they were working on a new piece for the show. Penn and Teller were arguing. And it was incredible to watch. They were circling a large wooden box like angry vultures. Penn was becoming louder and redder by the second throwing out words like ‘duplicate’, ‘sliders’, ‘reveal’, and ‘fuck’. Teller of course made no noise at all except for occasionally sucking through his teeth and scoffing. Even from Penn, most of the communication was in gestures. Hands swept violently through the air. Parts of the box were indicated, prodded and occasionally kicked. Arms were thrown up in exasperation and little pieces of paper with rough sketches on were thrust back and forth in an almost constant stream of Post-it confetti. At one point they both irritably lay down next to the box and stared at it from different sides like toddlers in a time out. Just as suddenly they jumped up and started pacing around it again. Teller grabbed a chair and peered into the box from above whilst Penn crouched beside him. Then they swapped. 

Currently it seemed to be an argument about mechanics but it was just as often, if not more frequently, an argument about philosophy. About what the trick meant or should mean, what should be humorous and what should be played straight. Then Penn tended to use words like ‘cheesy’ ‘overdone’ ‘truth’ and ‘soul’. And ‘fuck’. Teller would either dismiss him or spend ages flicking through books and pulling together images and quotes to create a kind of mood board. Then he’d just stare at Penn until they reached an understanding. 

Vince glanced back at them. They now had a red ball. It went in the box. It went out the box. In. Out. In. Out. Penn swore and threw the ball across the room and then swore again and angrily strode off and retrieved it. Teller got in the box next and Penn started circling once more, squatting down at different angles and distances and shaking his head.  
At one point Teller eagerly pulled out an old binder and flicked through it with practiced ease and showed a page to Penn. Penn read it, dismissed it and then closed it, very carefully and handed it back to Teller. It was the only thing in the whole process that Penn did gently. Everyone on the crew knew that those binders are more precious to Teller than anything. They contain a collection of notes and scribbles from some of the most talented magicians and craftsmen in history, many long dead. Teller takes them with him everywhere like a magician’s bible.  
After another hour they grabbed Mo who makes most of the props and took him on a walk around the box. He hemed and hawed. Penn grabbed a tape measure and Teller grabbed a piece of chalk and the three of them would hem and haw together, Mo forming a central point round which the other two teetered like a see-saw. 

Eventually they got Vince in the box and walked so far away that he thought it was a prank but then they came back, gesturing and shoving all the way. Vince excused himself from the box as soon as he could slip away.  
He came back from grabbing some coffee to see them with their heads bent together in animated mutual sketching. One would be excited and the other pessimistic and they would trade places frequently. The closer together the mood swaps became, generally the closer they were to finding a solution. Currently it was like watching a guitar string vibrate. It really is something incredible to watch their ideas coming together. 

This won’t be the end of it of course. They’ll get one solution to one part of it and then they come back to it over weeks and years until finally they have argued over every last detail and it’s ready for the show.  
Even once it’s been on the show they’ll continue to argue about it from time to time and slowly it will evolve. The other day he saw them kick off about the cups and balls, one of their oldest tricks and perhaps the oldest trick in magic. They argued for a solid hour and a half. Sometime later, could be tomorrow could be 10 years from now, Vince will notice they’ve tweaked it and it’ll be even better.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you want any more of these, I've got a few more ideas.


End file.
